


At the Devil's Beck and Call

by honeybadgerhook (reyclou)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Assassin's Creed IV: Black Flag, F/M, Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides, The Pirate Fairy, The Princess Bride - Freeform, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2018-09-14 10:36:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9177568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reyclou/pseuds/honeybadgerhook
Summary: (Post S6, minor canon diverge. No S7 content.) Future Zelena shows up to disrupt Storybrooke's Happily Ever After with her unlikely ally, Blackbeard, who wields the power of the dreaded ship, the Queen Anne's Revenge. An equally unlikely band of future allies, including a time-traveling stowaway, help with the fight in both times to not only preserve Storybrooke's Happily Ever After, but to bring back the Happy Ending of fate's latest victim: Hook and Emma's son.





	1. A Haon

**Author's Note:**

> In OUAT fashion, I'm weaving in a lot of characters from (or based on) various titles, particularly Pirates of the Caribbean, but you definitely don't need to know anything about these titles to get into the story. Much like OUAT, the parts I have them play are very different from their canon stories.
> 
> DIVERGENCES: I started writing this during the Camelot arc and intended to keep it canon, but so many holes have been blown in it since then that I either had to give up the story, or go slightly AU. Basically, Robin survived the Underworld arc, and events unfolded with Zelena that lead her to turn evil again (which I'll touch on in the story). Also, I'm ignoring S7; Liam is not a genderbent Alice.

**(Storybrooke, Present Day)**

Emma knew it couldn't last, Storybrooke's "happily ever after". No Hades. No Hyde. No Fiona. Part of her wanted to crawl under the covers, afraid that the moment her foot touched the bedroom floor, some unchained demon from the unresolved past would unleash itself down Main Street, but Henry's insistent "please please please" wore down her stamina. The tree curse remained in effect, a leftover shadow of darker days and, while she didn't really _need_ to leave Storybrooke, the fact that she _couldn't_ gave her a kind of claustrophobia that made the wide expanse of Storybrooke's harbor seem like the closest thing to freedom she could hope for, so Emma conceded defeat.

Henry had the wheel, Killian next to him, the _Jolly Roger_ as far from shore as the town line would allow. Emma's hair swirled in tune with the flapping of the canvas above and she noticed that Henry almost, but not quite, matched Killian's height now. Killian's murmured guidance brought a straight edge to Henry's shoulders that made her wonder how much longer she could get away with calling him "Kid". She slid over to lay her head on Killian's shoulder. Killian put his other arm around her and leaned in as if to kiss her temple, but a rumble in the water set the ship bobbing.

She _knew_ it couldn't last.

The water around them churned. A pulse of bright light burst from the water and the edges of it  slammed into the ship. The deck tilted violently as pure energy shot through them. Henry hugged the helm while Emma and Killian clung to each other for stability. The light focused into a beam until a familiar golden pillar of energy streamed up from the ocean.

"No," Emma groaned into Killian's shoulder as the waves swirled into the deep recess of a time portal. Henry turned the  _Jolly Roger_ away from the danger, just missing a collision as the tapered wooden stay and bowsprit of a ship thrust out of the portal.

"What the hell?" blurted Emma.

"Maybe it's a friend?" Henry offered as Killian slipped between him and the helm, taking control of the ship.

The teensiest bit of hope flickered in Emma's chest, but it snuffed out when a figurehead burst out of the water—a human skeleton, its bony hands clutching at the bowsprit as if throwing a massive javelin.

So probably _not_ a friendly visit.

Emma's fingertips lit with power as she stepped between her boys and the emerging ship. The rest of the ship burst through, a vicious-looking vessel with three masts, a high stern castle, and a blackened bow; its red sails, tattered and putrid, billowed with the wind. Its hull, thick with sea grime, cut through the water nearly as quickly as the _Jolly Roger_ itself, though its sheer size dwarfed Killian's ship. The high sides bore decks of cannons that swiveled on them in perfect sync. The whole of it rattled warning bells in Emma's magic radar.

" _Blackbeard_?" hissed Killian as he spun the wheel to angle them between the portal and Storybrooke.

"That's Blackbeard's ship?" asked Emma.

"It's his flag, at any rate," replied Killian, pointing to the main mast. Above, the wind tore at a black flag with a grim emblem—a skeleton spearing a bleeding heart—and Killian's grip on the helm tightened. "But that ship..."

Emma lifted a hand to poof Henry back home, but a sudden yank at her waist pulled her from her feet. She slammed against a mast of the _Jolly_ _Roger_. Her head bounced off the wood and her vision blurred. Rope cinched around her wrists and wrenched her arms back so hard that it strained her shoulders to breathe. But worst of all was the sensation as the rope bit into her skin—not the pain, but the _drain_ —as her magic seemed to suddenly sink out of her body. She couldn't summon the slightest spark of light magic.

"Emma!" screamed Killian, who was now _tied_ to the helm by ropes that slithered around his arms and waist. Henry, too, was tied to the mast. A sharp press of rope to her ribs drove the air from her lungs as the ropes tightened. As they drew taught, the slack of the ropes rose from the sides of the ship, pulled free of the sea, and Emma saw they were connected to the rigging of the other ship. They pulled tighter, without a human hand touching them, slowly drawing the two ships together. _The Jolly Roger_ lurched heavily to one side, then groaned and cracked as it was dragged on its side through the water until the ships were so close that one could practically step between them.

A puff of smoke appeared on the _Roger_ , bright orange-red, like the swell of a fresh bonfire, and when it dissipated it left a dark figure that could only be Captain Blackbeard. Though his long hair and beard bore streaks of grey and his face was deeply creased, he stood menacingly tall, a brace of pistols across his chest. He pulled one of these on Killian.

"A time portal, Thatch?" Killian drawled, trying to appear unimpressed with the other pirate's magic, but Emma could read the surprise in his eyes. "To come kill little old me? I'm flattered."

"Kill you, Hook?" chuckled Blackbeard. Convinced that Killian was indeed bound to helplessness, he relaxed his arm. "No no, I didn't come to kill _you_."

The fiery cloud enveloped Blackbeard and he poofed away, reappearing next to Henry. He pressed the barrel of the gun against the underside of Henry's chin, using it to tip Henry's head this way and that as he inspected him, then smiled in recognition. "Ah, the young Author, is it? You I have a use for."

Killian writhed against his bindings, "You leave him alone!"

Blackbeard only chuckled again at Killian's reaction. He waved a hand and Henry disappeared in a puff.

"Henry!?" Emma shouted.

This caught Blackbeard's ear and he poofed again, appearing this time in front of Emma. "Ah, and the wench who put the golden leash on our dear Captain!" He took a moment to bow mockingly, but as he rose, he cocked his gun and leveled it between her eyes. Killian let loose a string of curses as he wrenched against the unrelenting ropes.

"Sadly for him, milady, I came to kill _you_."

-0-

Granny's seemed much as it always had during the lunch rush—seats filled with chattering customers, the scent of grilling burgers in the air, the jukebox playing some sappy tune—the horror of standing in the midst of it all again made Zelena shiver. She'd just poofed in and was considering leveling the place out of pure spite when Snow, wedged in a booth between the wall and the moron she married, let out a gasp that brought Zelena back to her senses.

"Oh, right," she huffed, then waved a hand.

The entire room froze: Snow with her eyes wide; Charming, his hands going for his gun; and dear, deluded Robin Hood, seated across from them, dove for one of two strollers pulled up to the open edge of the table.

Zelena walked to the stroller nearest Robin and bent to pick up the crying bundle within, but a flash of white and a searing pain at her wrists made her take a step back.

She spun on her heels to find Regina, hands raised to attack.

Regina's eyes followed the path of a single curl of grey through Zelena's hair. "I love what you've done with your hair, Sis; you look terrible."

"Wait for the crow's feet you develop," snarled Zelena. "On second thought, I'll spare you."

She launched a green fireball at Regina, which the queen met with a bright white flame of her own. The two met and fizzled into nothing. Regina dusted her hands together, smiling with feigned sweetness. Undeterred, Zelena smoothed her dress.

Ah, yes, Regina's first bumbling attempts at light magic; how humiliating. How incredibly long it took to re-learn the simplest tasks, like changing an outfit or manifesting a snack, or...

Zelena threw a hand up, engulfing the room in green smoke. When it disappeared, three Zelenas stood in the diner, each with a fireball trained on a different target: Robin, Regina, and Roland, who was frozen halfway between the booth and the counter, a plate of pie in his hand.

_...Fighting multiple targets at once._

All three Zelenas giggled at the panic that Regina tried to hide behind a scowl. The Queen quickly realizing this was not the same Zelena she'd stuffed in a tornado and flung back to Oz.

Then they fired.

With no time to think, Regina poofed in front of Roland. Though she made a valiant effort to deflect all three attacks, the division of her attention proved too much for the unpracticed queen to handle. Regina took the brunt of the blast aimed at Roland. She hit the ground and slid straight into a table. Robin bounced off the wall and back into the booth with a delightful thud. The third shot blew across the diner and slammed into Granny's bar with a crash of glass and dishware.

The two twin Zelenas disappeared with stereo snickers. Robin was out cold, though Regina stirred. Everyone else, still frozen, could only watch as Zelena waved both hands at the strollers and the two children appeared in her arms, howling.

"Mommy's already made one monster," she cooed at the wailing children. "Why not make it _three_ this time around?"

She allowed herself one more triumphant glance around the room, then disappeared.

-0-

Emma learned two things as she stood strapped to the mast, her magic gone, unable to escape the barrel Blackbeard pointed at her face: First, that whatever happened between Killian and Blackbeard, past or future, he was hell bent on making Killian suffer for it. Second, that a properly motivated dragon can emit a screech shrill enough to incapacitate a human.

Lily dove out of the sky above the ship, shrieking so loud that Blackbeard jolted and his shot went wild. Before he could recover, the dragon swooped between the two ships, severing the ropes with her talons. Instantly Emma's bonds went slack and the power she couldn't grasp earlier surged out of her. Blackbeard flew backward, off of his feet and clear off the _Jolly Roger's_ deck, but before he could hit the water, he poofed away.

Emma's ears rang with the pain of the dragon screech, but all her thoughts turned toward Blackbeard's ship.

The other crew had been stunned by the sound, but now scrambled to action. She caught sight of a scuffle on deck as a handful of pirates swarmed a struggling Henry. Emma flicked a hand to poof him back but sensed a tingle of denial as she focused on the ship.

"It's shielded," she said to Killian, who shimmied and kicked away his bonds. "I can't poof us in or Henry out."

More of the living ropes shot out from Blackbeard's ship, catching Lily in their snare. The she-dragon howled in anger, rolled in the air, and whipped her head around to let loose a long burst of dragon fire. To Emma's shock, where her own magic had failed, the dragon's breath cut straight through Blackbeard's shield, consuming the upper masts and canvas in flames.

"No! Lily! Stop!" Emma shouted, fearing for Henry, but Lily was either too far away or too enraged to hear her. It took a glancing blow from a bolt of Emma's light magic to get her attention.

Back on the deck, Henry stepped on a toe here and elbowed a gut there and, suddenly free, dashed away from his captors, toward the _Jolly_ _Roger_. Lily dove around the ship to sweep up Henry with her tail, but it rammed up against the red flare of the shield. Whatever magic that allowed the dragon's breath to pass through clearly wasn't letting her body through. Men at the cannons started to fire on Lily, and she was forced to roll to safety. Still strapped to the ship, her maneuver pulled the ship hard to one side. The rigging ropes holding the canvas to the yard arms, weakened by the fire, gave way and the flaming mainsail fell. Emma screamed, but Henry disappeared in a red poof just as the burning mess hit the deck. He reappeared on the sterncastle in the grip of Blackbeard. Another pirate, a woman with dark and sprawling hair, searched through Henry's pockets as he writhed and squirmed. Realizing he couldn't break away, Henry leveraged his weight against Blackbeard to heft himself in the air and kicked the she-pirate square in the chest. At the same time, Lily, at last, broke free of her bonds and the ship lurched again with the sudden release. The woman stumbled back at Henry's hit, Henry's pen in hand, but the lurch of the ship threw her further off balance and she went overboard.

More ropes shot out as Blackbeard's ship tried to grab the woman, but Lily snatched her up with her claws.

Blackbeard glanced between the dragon's prisoner and the spreading fire behind him. He cursed loudly, then let out a command Emma did not hear. The dark ship took off for the town line at surprising speed considering the state of its sails. Only at this angle could Emma make out the half-rotten script at the base of the other ship's sterncastle: _Queen Anne's Revenge_. Killian made the attempt to chase, but even Emma could tell by the groans and shudders that something was wrong with the _Jolly Roger_. Lily zoomed past them, screeching, but the cannon shots kept her at bay. Helpless, Emma could only watch as the _Revenge_ , with her son aboard, sailed over the town line.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As mentioned, I'm working in a number of different titles. Angelica, the Queen Anne's Revenge (and to a lesser extent, Blackbeard), are pulled from Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides. That's pretty much all you really need to know about them as my versions are Once-ified.


	2. a Dó

_**(Present, Storybrooke)** _

Emma flicked the Author's pen between two fingers as she paced the sheriff's office. She walked from dartboard to couch and back again, sorting through the day's damage: Zelena (back from the future), Blackbeard (has magic now), Henry (forced across the town line), the _Jolly Roger_ (crippled and careened on the beach), babies Robyn and Neal (kidnapped), Date night (cancelled).

Nearly nose-to-bullseye, Emma turned on her heels and stalked toward the couch, toward her heartbroken parents, and tears of frustration burned in her eyes all over again.

The she-pirate touched her forehead to the bars of her cell, her hair still wet from the water, and made a snide remark. At least, it sounded snide;she'd only spoken Spanish since her capture, and Emma's foreign language skills began and ended with broken Elvish.

Killian, already at the cell bars growled back something that needed no English translation and the woman fell silent. Emma might have been impressed if she wasn't so pissed.

The station doors banged open and Emma felt the burn of Regina's anger even before the harsh click-clack of her heels brought the queen around the corner, a bruised but determined Robin in tow. When her eyes fell on prisoner in the cell, a dark look passed across her face and Regina stalked forward. "What have you done with Henry?"

Emma stopped her pacing to block Regina's path. "Tried that, we haven't even gotten a name out of her."

"Give me five minutes," said Regina, a fireball lighting in her hand.

The prisoner stared at Regina just long enough to take in her pantsuit, then burst out laughing. She spat something between breaths that caused Regina to toss the flame at the cell. It fizzled harmlessly against a shield and the rolls of laughter started all over again.

"I already spelled it against dark magic," Emma huffed, dragging Regina away from the cell by her shoulder. She made a mental note to download DuoLingo because this was getting embarrassing. "Mal and Lily are keeping watch on the Revenge. They swear Henry didn't turn tree."

"And if Blackbeard decides to take off to who-knows-where?"

Killian turned from the cell. "Without sails or magic, the _Revenge_ is dead in the water."

Regina put her hands on her hips. "How the hell did Blackbeard get magic in the first place?"

"The ship," Killian added with a growl, "the bloody _Queen Anne's Revenge_. It's dark magic, from stem to stern. Any and every scoundrel on Tortuga would give anything to command that ship."

"Just what we need," scoffed Regina, "Another nutcase pirate with more dark magic than sense."

Killian made to reply, but a voice from the cell cut him off. "He'll live," said their prisoner. Her words were perfect English, but her syllables twirled with a Latin momentum. "If we get what we want."

Regina stepped toward the cell. "And what would that be?"

"A new story."

Killian leaned toward the bars. "Seems we've been down that road once already and all it got Blackbeard was a black eye; a  performance I'd be happy to repeat."

Brown eyes glared back at him and she whispered back, "I will carve your heart from your chest with your own hook if I have to."

This time Emma lunged toward the cell, but pulled back as a puff of green smoke came between her and the cell.

"Angelica, dear," Zelena said, feigning exasperation even before her smoke dissipated. "Enunciate. A lady always makes her threats clear to the whole room."

Angelica's gaze slid to the witch and her knuckles tightened around the bars. A collection of rings on her hands scraped against the iron.

"Zelena," hissed Regina.

"Lucky for you, Sis, I'm not here for round two."

Emma stepped in front of Regina. "No matter how powerful you are in the future, I'm still the Savior here."

Zelena rolled her eyes at that. "And still self-righteous. But no matter. you're going to do exactly what I want anyway because I brought leverage."

She flicked a wrist and a double seat baby stroller, emerald green, appeared in front of her. David and Mary Margaret each took in a breath and stood to see their son and Robyn.

"What do you want?" Emma asked.

Zelena smiled. "In exchange for little Baby Neal, you give me Angelica."

Zelena motioned to the cell. The girl shifted her weight in the cell, feigning disinterest, but Emma noticed the steady press of white on nervous knuckles.

"You've never come back for one of your pawns before," Emma replied.

"Aye, and Blackbeard has left entire crews to their deaths to keep from sharing his prizes," added Killian. "What's to make us believe either of you would actually honor a deal?"

"Because she's his daughter," Zelena stated, simply. All eyes snapped to the woman in the cell, to her dark hair and dark eyes and the mad fury that gleamed in her eye. "I don't think I have to elaborate to you lot what a father would do for his child?"

Regina glanced between Zelena and Angelica. "You said you raised a monster, did you and-"

"Egads, no!" Zelena scowled in offense. "Pirates are Emma's thing, not mine." The green skinned witch straightened with pride. "However, I like to think she has benefitted from a feminine influence."

"And what do you want for my daughter?" asked Robin.

"My daughter stays with me," Zelena replied, a sharp glare in her eye. "But for the safe return of the Author, I ask a stiff price."

Emma glanced to the cell, the she-pirate glaring as if sheer will could slit her throat. "What do you want for him?"

"I need to get back to the _Revenge_ ," Zelena replied. "And since I don't want all you goody-two-shoes bothering me, I'll need passage across the town line, which means I need the only person who can cross the town line without turning into a tree--the one who cast it," Zelena's gaze turned to Killian. "Oh look, he also has a ship. Wonderful how this all works out."

Killian's eyes narrowed. "Nimue cast the curse."

"Through you," Zelena pressed as if the obviousness of the point pained her. "That's all the magic cares about. Now do we have a deal or not?"

"Fine," said Killian.

"No, no deal," said Emma.

The corners of Zelena's lips tipped up in amusement. "Oooh, Emma, are you really willing to risk the safety of your son for your boy toy?"

"No, but-" Emma searched the floor as if the words to explain herself might be strewn there. She wanted Henry safe more than anything, but she needed time, too.

"But the _Jolly Roger_ is shipwrecked," Regina broke in, "thanks to _your_ pirate. So if you want the matching set, you'll have to wait."

Zelena glanced between the two mothers, a self-satisfied smirk showing she'd picked up on the Savior's distress, and she took a step back.

"Alright then, Sis. You have til sundown to fix the ship and bring me my demands," she tugged the stroller closer, "or Blackbeard's crew gets two new recruits."

With that, Zelena disappeared.

-0-

Henry's fingers had long grown numb in Blackbeard's grip by the time the towering pirate and his cronies dragged Henry through the galley below deck. Henry's muscles burned with the strain of tugging and struggling and he could feel his furor weakening.

"You'll forgive us if you've found us unprepared hosts," prattled Blackbeard, "however, our royal suite is recently vacated." One of the other pirates shuffled ahead and pulled open a door. "I assure you I heard no complaints about the lodgings, however, that may have been owing to the gags in their mouths."

Blackbeard shoved him in and Henry didn't stumble far before he hit a rough wall. The "suite" was little more than a foul-smelling storage closet, with only a slime coated porthole for light.

Blackbeard's scowl under his streaked beard was the last thing Henry saw before the door slammed and locked, plunging Henry into near darkness. Henry shook the life back into his numbed limb, wincing against the wave of prickles. An extra weight pressed against his wrist as the feeling returned, and Henry ran fingers over a cuff-style bracelet. Blackbeard must have shoved on him as they sped toward the town line. He guessed this was what stood between him and a new life as a sapling.

Both hands working again, Henry felt his pockets for his phone but found them empty, his phone no doubt confiscated by his captors. His pen had gone over the side of the ship with the girl pirate, and right now he was happy it escaped Blackbeard's clutch. He made the effort to pat around his cell for anything useful but found only that there wasn't much room at all to move around. He'd never really considered the cramped, spartan hold of the _Jolly Roger_ particularly comforting, but the _Revenge_ seemed to sway and lurch with a kind of menace, and he realized, perhaps for the first time, he truly felt scared aboard a pirate ship.

Weariness washed over him, and he slumped to the floor. It looked like once again he had to sit on the sidelines while the heroes carried the story.

His eyes drooped and he considered taking a nap when a faint scratching sound drew his attention to the door. Something scuttled through the crack under the door, a large bug or a small mouse he guessed, and Henry again found himself pining for the comparatively cleaner _Jolly Roger_.

"Henry?" a woman's voice whispered. "Are you in here?"

Henry blinked.

"H-hello?" he tested.

"Oh thank goodness!" exclaimed the other voice, and a little blue light suddenly appeared at his foot. He recognized a fairy instantly, even if he did not recognize this particular fairy. She had wild red-brown hair tied back in a bandana, a tiny longcoat with holes cut for her wings and a little sword stuffed in her belt. In fact, if not for her fluttering wings that filled the small room with a soft glow, she looked patently un-fairy-like.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I'm Zarina, a friend," she replied, floating forward to inspect him. "Are you okay, Henry?"

"How do you know my name? Are you from Storybrooke?"

She shook her head. "Storybrooke, no. But I'm from your kingdom. Well, your future kingdom, I guess. We've never actually met, but I heard your mother's screams and put two and two together."

"If you're a friend, what are you doing here? Are you a prisoner too?"

Zarina, content with his current state, landed on his kneecap. "I used the last of my dust to sneak aboard just before the ship went through the time portal. I don't think they know I'm here yet."

"Can you get me out of here?"

"Out of the room, possibly. Off the ship, I'm not so sure." Zarina zipped into the air and hovered over the cuff on Henry's wrist. "Were you wearing this before, or did Blackbeard put it on you?"

"Blackbeard," Henry replied, "Why?"

"That is what's keeping you from turning into a tree. If Zelena had the foresight to take this cuff, she might have had the foresight to bring other magic with her."

"Whoa, wait, Zelena is here?"

Zarina nodded absently. "Zelena and Blackbeard are in on this together, that's how we came through the time-"

Zarina clapped a hand over her mouth and stared at Henry. "Oh no. No, no. There are rules for this kind of thing. I'm not supposed to tell you anything about the future!"

"I don't think Blackbeard or my nutty aunt have any interest in following rules."

Still, Zelena frowned and gazed at her wings. "Sorry guys, you were fun while you lasted."

She turned back to Henry. "Zelena's here for her daughter. Blackbeard's involvement, well," Zarina rubbed a hand against the back of her neck, "that is a much longer story."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zarina is a character borrowed from Disney's The Pirate Fairy. She's a pirate. And a fairy. And really good at getting into trouble. But again, you don't have to have seen the Pirate Fairy to follow along.


	3. a Trí

  
(Fairy Tale Land, Zarina’s Past)

The blacks and the blues and the barely light of the early morning stretched over the sky. Zarina’s wings hummed behind her as she sped over the unbroken expanse of a dark, rolling ocean and chased a glittering green trail of fairy dust, a bright and glaring streak in the fading night.

“Look!”

Zarina glanced up at the call. Tinkerbell, flying above, pointed toward the horizon, where a smudge of white, murky against the just-waking sky, skimmed along the edge of stars and sea.

“Get big,” Tink added, “his eyes aren't what they used to be.”

Zarina shimmied and her body billowed around her, but she couldn't help the tired groan that escaped her. They had been flying for some time and her sore muscles protested the strain of the added size. However, she watched the white smudge turn to white sails as the Jolly Roger sped toward them. Eager for a chance to land, she made to dive toward the ship, but Tink’s hand at her shoulder held her back. As the ship neared, she felt a tingling thrum of a magic barrier.

Blood magic, if she wasn't mistaken.

Of course it would have to be blood magic now, she considered. Just a few months ago, Zelena had snuck into the castle, despite its many shields, and nearly kidnapped both Prince Henry and young Robyn. In the end she escaped only with the Author’s pen. She appeared again a few weeks ago, aboard the Jolly Roger no less, with her eye on equally precious cargo.

The ship rushed by them, breaking Zarina from her thoughts. Tink took off after it and Zarina groaned again at the thought of trying to match the Jolly Roger on weary wings, but, mercifully, the ship had seen them and slowed. The fairies came alongside the ship. Zarina, excited, neared as close as she could to get a good look at the deck lit by scant, scattered lanterns, the warm light welcome after so much night, but she froze when she caught sight of the white-blonde hair and green eyes of Emma Swan staring back at her. She was dressed in a sailor’s shirt and a sturdy waistcoat; Zarina had taken her for a common deckhand at first, the undeniable power evident in her firm glare gave her away.

“Tink?” boomed a man’s voice over the sound of water and wind and sail. Zarina glanced to the ship's wheel and almost strayed into the shield when she saw the captain at the helm, his hook thrown over a spoke. Wind raked through the sprawl of grey at his temples but startling blue eyes shone bright and ageless.

“Yes,” Tink shouted back, “and I brought help.”

Emma’s shoulders squared in defense as she took in the fairies and Zarina wondered if this was her superpower at work, analyzing them for lies. It occurred to Zarina that she might not let them aboard, and Zarina sunk a little at the thought of flying all the way back to the mainland. But no sooner had the thought crossed her mind when Emma relaxed, stepped to the edge of the ship, and reached a hand through the shield. Tink and Zarina linked arms before Tink took Emma’s hand and the princess pulled them through. Both fairies landed on the deck easily enough; Zarina, however, unused to the pitch and sway of a ship, and her worn-out wings too sore and heavy to properly counter her weight, lost her balance and toppled over, straight onto Emma. Zarina’s cheeks burned as Emma shifted her stance and set them right. They cooled a little when she looked up to Emma’s tight but sympathetic smile. Across the ship, however, the full weight of Hook’s unamused stare settled on Zarina and she nearly shrank back to fairy size on the spot. She opened her mouth to apologize but only managed a series of indiscernible squeaks.

Tink cut in for her, “Emma, this is Zarina.”

Hook, far enough away that the wind played with their words, balked and braced against the wheel. “Zelena?”

“Zarina, Hook,” Tink shouted, over-pronouncing her name, “Za-ree-na!”

Hook relaxed, but only slightly, letting the movement of the ship sway him away from the wheel. Emma put a hand to their shoulders and guided them nearer to him.

“Blue didn’t say she was sending help,” said Emma.

“Blue doesn’t know we’re here,” said Tink.

Emma eyed her from beside her. “Why?”

“Zarina’s methods are not exactly standard variety fairy magic and if she finds out we’re here, she’ll have our wings.” Tink balled her fists at her hips. “Blue is so afraid of another Fiona that she shuts down anyone who thinks just a little differently.”

“Tink,” Emma took a step forward, voice lowered in warning. “Fiona and her dark fairy dust almost wiped out all of the magic realms. I’d be gun-shy too!”

Tink opened her mouth to respond, but Zarina broke in.

“It's not dark magic,” Zarina sputtered, though her voice came out an entire octave higher than she meant it to. All eyes on the ship snapped on her and she felt the urge to shrink again. “Well, I mean, I guess it could be used that way, but it isn't dark, just… different.”

Zarina hastily reached into a pouch, pulled out a pinch of dust, and sprinkled it into her palm. It looked dull and colorless, more like ordinary table salt than magic. “Fairy dust comes from diamonds carefully nurtured so that they produce only light magic dust. Fiona--”

“--Nurtured diamonds with dark magic to make dark fairy dust,” said Emma, nodding. “I’m aware.”

“This dust is neither,” said Zelena. “It comes from a diamond I nurtured myself, it isn't light or dark or anything; it’s just uncharged dust that can absorb the properties of other magics.”

Emma straightened, looking to the dust with renewed interest.

“Here, give me your palm,” ordered Zarina. Emma obeyed, presenting her hand. Zarina sprinkled the dust into Emma’s palm.

“Now do something magical. Something simple,” Zarina asked.

Emma opened her hand again and lit a ball of light. The dust beneath began to glow white. Zarina put a silent hand up, and Emma let the ball fizzle to nothing. The dust now shined bright white. Zarina gently took Emma’s hand and turned it over so that the dust fell into Zarina’s own palm, then she stepped back and concentrated.

A ball of crackling light, twin to the one Emma just summoned, lit in Zarina’s palm.

“No way,” Emma whispered, slack-jawed, then locked eyes with Zarina. “Is this how Zelena is getting through my shields?”

Tink shook her head. “I doubt it, but if it is, Zarina is still your best hope of fighting it.”

Zarina’s chest bubbled warm with the vote of confidence. It dissolved, though, when her hand began to shake under the sustained power of the stolen savior magic. Diving forward, Emma clasped a hand over Zarina’s and snuffed the ball out between their palms. A few bright grains of dust slipped through Zarina’s fingers, mere glints in the rising sunlight as they fell and scattered on the deck.  
  
“Sorry,” said Zarina, waving her hand to call the stray dust back to her palm. “Dust charged after refining is a little more temperamental than the other kinds.”

Zarina clenched her palm again, a small, harmless burst of light magic escaped her fist, and she opened it again. Not a single grain remained.

“Where do we start?” Emma asked.

“So it would seem we’re taking in the fairy fugitives after all?” asked Hook.

Tink ignored the comment with an eyeroll. “What exactly happened the night Zarina boarded? What were they after?”

Killian took a deep breath, his eyes darted over the waters. “Liam was aboard.”

Tink tensed. “Is he alright?”

“He’s well, as well as can be expected. We weren’t here when it happened,” he said with a sigh, “but as best we can understand, Zelena and Blackbeard snuck aboard and tried to break the blood lock on the cabin. My first mate interfered, they retaliated, alerting Emma.”

"Howso?" asked Zarina.

"It's kind of like a security alarm. Any magic that happens on the ship I know about instantly. I poofed us back as soon as I felt the tingle, but they were gone, and any witnesses dead, except Liam and Morgan."

“Morgan?”

“My first mate," said Hook. "She was alive when they took her, but any and every tracking spell we've used to try to find her has failed."

Zarina's gaze dipped to the deck. A failed tracking spell usually meant there wasn't anything, or anyone, left to find.

"I'm not taking that as confirmation," added Emma. "If Zelena can bypass my magic, t's entirely possible she's learned to duck a tracker, too."

Hook only nodded toward the hatch. “We make landfall soon, best that the two of you get out of sight.”

The sky had finally brightened, a red dawn crawled from the ocean, pressing the last wisps of quiet cobalt to the west. Emma again put her hands behind the fairies and ushered them toward the captain’s cabin. Again, she took Tink’s hand and they formed a chain, passing through another blood shield as they stepped down into the quarters.

As soon as Zarina’s ears dipped under the deck, she heard the sad strains of a violin. A young man sat in a chair, below the cabin windows, eyes closed, a violin at his chin. He wore simple clothes, a loose shirt and breeches, well-made and well-tailored, but old, the shirt worn through at the elbows. His dark hair was swirled with messy disregard.

He looked like he hadn't slept in decades.

Low, slow, somber strings wrapped around Zarina's heart, weighing it down with strands of despair until hot tears of sudden regret burned at her eyes. The sincere depth of it might just have smothered her right there but for a sudden buck of the Jolly Roger against a rogue wave that jarred her attention. Zarina, still unused to her big, awkward body stumbled, the motion of the ship knocking her off balance and away from the two others. Desperate to keep herself upright, she grasped for the only solid object around her, a chair, but her wild motions only knocked it over, sending it clattering into the captain’s table, upending a plate and a half-eaten meal, all of which crashed to the floor.

The two other women bent over her immediately, asking if she was all right. The violinist, however, played on uninterrupted. Moreover, there wasn’t a even a flicker of acknowledgment at her commotion, his brow knit in devout concentration, as if he heard nothing beyond the sound of his own violin.

Tink bent to offer her a hand up. “Takes a lot more than that to break Liam’s concentration.”

Liam, Zarina thought. The Songbird Prince. The nickname the fairies had giggled as the flailings of young, chubby arms turned to skilled strokes of lean limbs and the fumbling child proved a master musician in the making. Now a grown man, no finer aficianado than the young prince drew breath in all the lands.

Emma walked over to the young man and smoothed his wild hair. Zarina took Tink’s hand and shifted back to her feet.

“He’s in his own world,” said Emma. She leaned over and placed a light kiss on his forehead. “My sweet boy.”

Liam’s shoulders slackened and the music moaned to an uneasy close. His green eyes broke open, blinking as if using them for the first time in days. He looked up at Emma. “Mom?”

Emma brushed a lock of hair from his eyes. “Look who came to help.”

He looked at the two fairies and a smile broke across his face, crooked, as one not quite in control of his features. “Tink!”

“Liam,” she returned a sad smile. He stood to hug her, gently, and with the weak sway of a body too long awake. He put his hand to her back to steady himself, leaving a trail of red streaks where his fingers brushed.

“You're bleeding!” Emma grabbed his hand and examined it. He had played so hard and for so long that the strings had cut through his calluses. Emma’s hand glowed with healing magic but he snatched his away with renewed strength.

“No magic!”

Emma sighed with irritation, but backed away. She moved across the cabin, opened a drawer, pulled out a small box, and returned to his side. She opened the box, which was full of bandages, and held it open for his inspection.

“Happy?” she asked.

Wordlessly, he held out his bleeding hand. Emma gently guided him back down into his chair and started tending to his wounds.

“Can you help us find them?” he asked of Tink. Zarina saw clearly now the red, bloodshot eyes of a desperate, sleepless man.

Tink took in a breath, apparently unsure what to promise.

“We’re waiting on word from Ariel,” said Emma. “She has eyes all over, and under, the ocean. Someone has to spot them eventually.”

“I want them dead,” Liam growled, and the swift shift of his tone brought an almost palpable chill to Zarina’s spine. His wounded hands balled into fists and his muscles strained beneath his bandages. “Drowned, perhaps. Or crushed under a mast as Blackbeard's ship sinks into oblivion.”

“Liam, this isn't you,” Emma put a hand to either side of his neck.

“Clearly my violin won't protect anyone,” he snapped back, “maybe it’s time I tried a sword.”

“Shhh,” Emma whispered. She put a hand to his face, stroked a thumb along his cheekbone, smoothing his unkempt stubble. His eyelids drooped, his shoulders sank, and he slumped back in his chair. She waved a hand and poofed him across the room, onto the captain’s bed. He sprawled there, unconscious, as she walked over and settled a pillow under him.

“My sweet, sweet boy,” Emma murmured.

“Did you just… magic him out?” Tink asked.

“It’s the first he’s slept in almost a week," said Emma. "He and Morgan were--are--kind of a thing.”

“This is the Hook in him,” warned Tink. “You know a nap isn't going to make this go away, Emma.”

“I just need time to talk some sense into him. Or find a place to shackle him.”

“Emma!” came a woman’s muffled voice, though none of the women had spoken.

Emma dug a hand into a pocket of her waistcoat, pulled out a small mirror and cradled it in a palm.

“Regina?” she asked the object. “Did you get the pen back?”

“Barely, but yes," replied the queen's voice and Emma's shoulders dipped in slight relief. 

“How is he?” asked Regina and Emma tensed all over again.

“Worse.”

Regina paused, replying with a soft “I’m sorry.”

“We’ll rendezvous,” said Emma, clipping the conversation off and stuffing the mirror back into a pocket

“Emma?” Tink asked.

“Regina and Robin just stole Henry’s pen back, they're going to see if his author powers can tell us what's going on with Zelena.” Emma looked again to the sleeping prince, then back to the fairies. “Are you two up for babysitting?”

-0-

**_(Queen Anne’s Revenge, Storybrooke, Present)_ **

Boots outside Henry’s compartment cut short Zarina’s story.

“Oh no,” Zarina whispered, eyes bright with fear. “Henry, no one can know I'm here. If they see or hear me…”

She trailed off as she desperately glanced around the room for a place to hide, but the sparse cell gave exactly zero options, so she fluttered over to the door.

“Zarina,” Henry whisper-warned.

“I'm sorry, I’ll try back when it’s safe.”

She stuck her head under the door and, seeing a moment of opportunity, scrambled underneath and was gone.

Henry thought maybe the bustle of bodies were coming to interrogate him, but they stomped straight past his door. Instead, he heard a loud jangle of chains, the opening of a nearby door, and the sound of a body landing in the cell next to his.

The boots retreated and faded up a ladder and he waited for any sound from his neighbor, but nothing came.

Henry’s mind raced. Had they caught someone else, too?

“Hello?” he tested. “Mom? Killian?”

Henry scooted over to the wall, searching for a crack or gap, any insight into the cell beyond. He found a spot where two boards had warped and bowed apart slightly. If he moved up super close and pressed his eye to it, he could see into the other cell. A single, dirty porthole in the next compartment let in very little light, but he could make out a human form curled on the floor. His heart skipped a little at seeing long, blonde hair, but this was not Emma. He felt a small pang of disappointment, which was soon eclipsed by relief that his mother was not captured.

No, it was an unfamiliar young woman in the other cell. She was dressed for the sea in loose pants, a flowing shirt and a leather bodice. Her hair, knotted and greasy, fell well past her waist. She showed little sign of life, and Henry thought she might be dead except for the subtle rise and fall of her chest. He tried calling out a few times, but she did not stir. Indeed, she looked so filthy and bruised that a swell of compassion told him to let her sleep.

Left alone with little else but his worries, he tried his best to make a comfortable spot in his uncomfortable prison, and rehearsed all the unflattering phrases he was going to use to describe Blackbeard when all of this was over.

 

 

 


	4. a Ceathair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: In this story, the town line is still under a tree curse.

**(Present Day, Storybrook)**

Emma thumped her head against her desk. Despite hours of debate, the heroes had no solid plan. Trading Angelica for baby Neal seemed fair enough and she didn't have to like the idea of trading Killian for Henry to see the wisdom in it but no one could concede to a viable way to get baby Robyn back. While they could try to take Zelena head on, they might also get a lot of people killed. Blackbeard might be the safer prey, stuck on the wrong side of the town line, but she saw no way to take a shot at him. No one had found a way across the town line since they got back from Camelot. Not her. Not Regina. Not Mr. Darkest-of-them-All, who flatly refused to get involved, because becoming a mega-Dark One apparently didn't come with a complimentary set of fucks to give. Still, if they could just get past the town line, the tables shifted. Unlike _the Jolly Roger_ , the _Queen Anne's Revenge_ seemed to have lost its magical capacity when it crossed the town line, leaving it prone to attack, and she defied any pirate crew to take on her family when Henry was at stake. Charming could use the adventure; he'd be set for weeks after clearing the decks of an honest-to-goodness pirate ship.

Only they couldn't get across the line.

She looked up from the desk. Her parents were still snuggled together in the love seat near the cell. Robin and Regina stood at a distance, arguing softly among themselves. Killian sat on the other desk, staring at her with that look that said he knew that she knew exactly what they should do, but she, being stubborn, wasn't about to admit that, so she huffed and looked away.

Emma's eyes flicked back to Angelica, as was almost habit now. A silence spell on the cell kept their conversation from her ears (and her colorful commentary far from their ears), but Emma still found her distracting. Angelica had taken a more relaxed pose; her back against the wall, one leg slung across the bed, the other dangling over the edge like a bored teenager. She absently spun one of the rings on her finger with her thumb. It was a simple silver band with a dark jewel, plain compared to the menagerie of jewels on her other fingers, hardly worth a pirate's interest, or Emma's, and yet she found herself suddenly curious. Almost transfixed, Emma got to her feet and walked over to the cell. The movement caught Regina's attention and she stepped away from Robin.

"Emma, what is it?" Regina asked.

"That ring," Emma replied, almost dazed.

Angelica, who hadn't seemed aware of what she was doing, sat upright and slipped her hands under her thighs.

"If it's jewelry you're interested in, aren't you barking up the wrong pirate?" Regina asked. She crossed her arms. "Please tell me you searched her before you threw her in there," said Regina.

"Of course I did, _and_ I did a sweep for dark magic."

Regina pursed her lips, unconvinced. "Open it up."

Emma rolled her eyes but conceded. With a wave of her hand, she took down the shield. Regina, with a wave of hers, popped open the cell. Angelica looked poised to run for it, but at a snicker from Regina, vines shot out of the cell wall and hauled Angelica against the cold bricks.

Regina held out a hand, slowly scanning Angelica from head to neck to-

Suddenly Regina's fingers curled. She lurched forward and shoved a hand into Angelica's chest.

"Regina!" Emma shouted, scrambling forward into the cell, but she could do nothing.

Regina ignored her, frowning as she pulled back an empty hand, "No heart."

"It's safe from greedy green hands," Angelica hissed back, "and washed-up witches."

Emma bit her lip. She was telling the truth, unfortunately. Well, the first part of it, at least. It made sense that Blackbeard would protect their hearts from Zelena.

And it meant there was a crack of distrust that they just might be able to exploit.

Regina only set her jaw and gestured again. The vines yanked Angelica's arms forward; painfully, by the grunt she gave. Regina waved a hand over the pirate's hand and the very silver band she had toyed with began to glow white.

"I swear I didn't detect a single speck of dark magic," said Emma.

"The operative term there is 'dark.' This ring is light magic," Regina wiggled her fingers and a little speck of magic floated away from the ring. It drifted in the air for a moment then, like a dog catching a scent, took off and zoomed into Emma's chest. "What's more," Regina continued, "it's _your_ magic."

"My magic made that ring?"

" _Makes_ that ring. That's why it's bugging you, it's your magic sensing itself."

"Why does she have a magic ring that _I_ made? Make. Whatever."

"Perhaps _she_ killed someone you loved and took it," Angelica said. Her eyes flicked from Emma to Killian and Emma's blood went cold. Her heart pounded so loudly in her ears that she almost missed a familiar tickle at the back of her mind.

"You're lying," said Emma.

Angelica's lips twitched down.

Regina tried to take the ring with magic, but it let off a stubborn spark in protest. "You're right, Emma. It's soul-bound," said Regina. "Not only did you definitely make this, but you definitely didn't want it to come off."

"Why?" Emma asked. "What does it do?"

Regina shrugged. "Beats me, but if I had to guess, I'd say it's a muzzle."

Angelica let fly a flurry of curses. Regina smiled that she had apparently struck a nerve, but the pride faded at a loud crash from behind Emma and Regina. The two women spun on their feet to find Robin sprawled out on the floor. He'd taken a desk lamp with him. Killian, being closest, dropped down to check on him. He plucked a tiny red dart from Robin's neck.

Emma's eyes darted to her parents, who still sat nestled into each other on the couch, stone still in sleep, similar darts sticking out of their necks.

A dark figure dressed in dark clothes and a dark hood whirled around the corner from the entrance to the station, a tube in his hand. Both Emma and Regina reacted, immediately blasting him with their magic, but their attacks passed straight through him, leaving him untouched. He blew through his tube and Regina went down. Emma moved to catch her, to soften her fall. Killian, seeing his chance, jumped up from the floor, hook flashing. The man threw away his tube to pull out a sword.

Emma caught Regina and let her down as gently as she could manage, but it cost her. With Regina out, Angelica slipped free of the vines. A sharp kick to Emma's back sent her tumbling. Before Emma could recover, Angelica plucked the dart from Regina and jammed it into Emma's leg. Much like on the ship, her command of her magic started to slip away. She threw a punch, but her muscles, suddenly sluggish, swung too wide. Angelica redirected her into a wall. Emma slammed a shoulder against brick. Pain shot down her spine and a wave of grogginess almost brought her to her knees but for the wall. At the click of a gun, Emma turned her head back toward Angelica.

Angelica had Emma's gun pointed at her.

"Now for my happy ending," Angelica said.

"Like hell," Emma spat. She launched herself off the wall, straight at Angelica.

Angelica pulled the trigger.

-0-

**(Present day, Queen Anne's Revenge)**

Zarina's size gave her an advantage in sneaking around the old pirate ship, but a supreme disadvantage in nearly every other aspect. Without her dust, she couldn't fight, change size, or even open a stupid door. She'd used the last grains of it to sneak aboard the ship, without a thought for what she'd actually do once aboard. But she was here, now, and would do all she could to help free Henry.

And poor Morgan, too, if there was hope left there.

If there was even a future them to get back to.

Zarina flitted down an empty hall below deck. The cramped design left nowhere to hide, so when a door to her left suddenly flew open, she had little recourse but to zip upwards and flatten herself above the doorway. Blackbeard stalked out of the door and down the hallway, so consumed in grumbling rage that he missed any sign of her. She took full advantage and dove into the room before the door slammed shut.

Tall windows that spanned at least two decks of the sterncastle let in light enough to be blinding after so much time below deck, and Zarina had to look away and blink for a bit. When her eyes adjusted, she found herself alone in the captain's cabin, a rather luxurious den of satin and baubles and heavy furniture. The high ceiling gave a looming, imposing quality to the cabin, heightened by the fact Zarina's size made everything on this ship seem like the work of giants. Through the windows, she made out a land mass a ways out from the ship. She figured this must be the fabled Storybrooke, where hope and help waited, if they could just get off this damned ship.

She turned her attention back to the quarters, searching for anything that might help. Her eyes fell on a heavy wooden armoire reinforced with ironwork and a padlock. She had no chance of undoing the lock, but she drifted near and pressed an ear to its doors anyway.

The muted rumble of countless human heartbeats burned in her ears.

She pushed away quickly, sucking in air to curb a swell of nausea. She hovered there a moment, trying to settle her nerves. She heard a chirp from over her shoulder and whirled around, but saw no movement, nor anything that could have made the sound. Panic rose in her gut. Slowly, she pushed forward, toward Blackbeard's desk, and noticed a small pile of otherworldly items on top, in particular, a smooth, slim, shiny brick.

There was another chirp and the brick lit up. It was strange to her eyes, but she dashed forward to inspect anyway. The words "Lunch at Granny's" appeared on the brick, but that wasn't really what caught her attention. Behind the glowing message was an image of Henry and his two mothers, smiling. Surmising that this must belong to the young prince, Zarina tried to lift it. It was heavy and awkward for a creature her size, but she could just manage it. She'd heard happy thoughts help you fly, and the thought of turning a useful tide helped Zarina's wings to carry the load.

Maybe, she thought, it might make up for the heavy host of her bad decisions that got them here.

-0-

**(Present Day, Storybrooke)**

Emma woke to the bright fluorescent lights of the file room ceiling. A rash of confused thoughts dashed through her mind. The images of bodies dropping in the station and Killian drawing his sword took the lead and panic won out. Her stiff back and groggy eye disappeared and she immediately sat up on her elbows.

She was laid out on a blanket on the floor of the file room, Killian's jacket underneath her head, and she breathed deep the scent of leather and spiced rum to calm her. Next to her lay her parents, and next to them, Robin and Regina, all still fast asleep on blankets of their own, unharmed.

"Emma, you okay?"

Emma turned to find Granny, crossbow in hand, leaning into the doorway. Before she could reply, she heard boots running from the other side of the wall. Granny moved out of the way and suddenly Killian filled the doorway.

"Emma!" Killian breathed, relieved. He stepped in and knelt down, pulling her up into a hug. "My heart stopped when she pulled that trigger."

Right, Angelica.

Emma's mind sprang back to the fight in the cell and the gun trained on her. The gun that never fired, leaving Emma the precious second of surprise to tackle the pirate bitch. If Angelica whacked her head against the cot on the way down and knocked herself out, well, whoops.

"Sorry," she replied, a sleepy croak in her voice. "After the Uncle James incident, I enchanted my gun so only I can-"

Any further explanation died on her lips as Killian caught hers in a kiss.

"The others," Emma asked after they broke apart, "are they okay?"

"Sleep dart. They're fine, but they'll be out a while yet."

"Angelica? The… other guy?"

"Locked away," Killian replied, "with more than a few bruises between them."

Emma leaned in for another kiss to express her relief, but her phone rang. She leaned back to dig through her pocket. When she pulled the phone out, though, she sat bolt upright.

"It's Henry," she gasped and accepted the call, setting it to loudspeaker. "Henry!?"

" _Mom!"_ Henry replied, and she knew instantly and without a doubt that it was him.

"Are you okay?" Emma asked.

Henry's reply came in a rush of stumbling words.

" _I'm fine, Mom. They haven't hurt me, at least, not yet, but I'm not alone. I have a friend here, a fairy, but I don't know how much time I have before they figure out what's going on and I know you're worried, but you guys really, really need to hear this."_

"Alright, alright," said Emma, swallowing a thousand questions and a thousand reassurances that she wanted to send.

" _First off, congratulations, Killian; you're gonna be a dad."_


	5. a Cúig

**(Fairy Tale Land, Future Past)**  
  
Zarina sort of skipped most of the godmotherly parts of her training, not to mention pretty much anything to do with human interaction, and now felt completely unprepared for the responsibility thrust on her. Emma and Hook had been gone barely an hour, without event, but Zarina’s nerves kept her glancing between the bed where Liam slept and the cabin windows, despite the _two layers_ of blood magic protecting them from the outside world. She tried to distract herself by magicking a human outfit to replace her fairy dress, figuring if she was going to hide among the humans, she might as well look like one of them. However, she’d never really paid much attention to human fashion and only had Hook and Emma to go off of, so she ended up in a blue leather duster and trousers that made Tink snicker (not to mention the chafing). She let Tink take over and found herself in a simple skirt, blouse, and corset. She kept the blue coat, though; it made her feel weighty and significant in a heavy world far different from the clouds and flower huts back home. She longed to be back in her lab, but she knew, even if Blue hadn’t found out, Zarina had already outgrown her studies there. She knew fairy magic well enough, but the rest of magic, the rest of the world, was only book knowledge to her; Zarina needed to test her dust against more than just abject theories spilled from a quill but never tested in the proverbial wild against a bitchy witch. Unfortunately, she hadn’t found a speck of Zelena’s magic to analyze, so Zarina worked with what she had: Savior magic.  
  
Emma had left a covered dish behind for Liam, spelled to keep his food warm and edible, as well as a little trinket box Emma had enchanted shut for them to test the dust against. Zarina sat at the captain’s table and traced the edge of the dish with a finger, feeling out the magic. She tried to deconstruct all the interwoven elements of the spell, a mix of protective instinct and motherly concern plus a little maternal guilt. Tink sat opposite her at the table, fussing with the box. Tink sprinkled it with a little dust and tapped her wand on the box. The specks of dust began to glow white as they soaked up the light magic. The box trembled, lept into the air, and popped open. It fell back to the table with a bang, breaking the hinge.  
  
“It… worked,” said Tink, gingerly poking at the broken box, “sort of.”  
  
The bed creaked and Zarina almost zoomed straight to the ceiling in fright. Liam pushed himself up on an elbow, his hair a swirl of upended chaos and his skin pale from sleep. Apparently the dust had soaked up more of Emma’s magic than just what was cast on the box.  
  
Zarina slowly sank back down in her chair, her heart calming from the shock as Liam groggily kicked at his covers.  
  
“You never were one for nap time,” Tink sighed. She rose and held out a hand to help him up. “Come on. If you’re not going to sleep, you might as well eat something.”  
  
He took Tink’s hand and she pulled him up. He stood, theoretically, but Tink shouldered most of his weight as she guided him to a chair at the table. Zarina slid the dish over to him and lifted the lid to reveal two rectangular pastries on the plate. A sweet, sugary aroma filled the cabin. Liam blinked at Zarina a few times, a wary arch to his brow.  
  
Zarina started to go a little red. Maybe Tink hadn't gotten the clothes right after all. “Is something wrong?”  
  
“Pop-Tarts are contraband,” Liam stated as if it were the most obvious law of the universe. “They’re absolutely forbidden on this ship.”  
  
“Oh.” Zarina moved to place the lid back.  
  
“Ah ah ah!”  
  
Liam launched forward, snatched one of the tarts, and shoved a corner into his mouth. “Lem’me  deal wif the effidence,” he managed through a mouthful of sprinkles and jam.  
  
Zarina felt the weight of the plate lift from her hands as Liam pulled it away from her and set the plate in his lap.  
  
“Am I allowed to ask where they went,” Liam asked after swallowing half a tart, “or are prisoners to remain silent?”  
  
Tink slipped into her seat and Zarina took the cue to follow suit. “Regina and Robin have the pen. They’re returning it to Henry.”  
  
Liam sat up and dropped the unfinished half of his tart back on the plate.  
  
“I don’t understand,” said Zarina, “why is that so important? The Author can’t change anything, not without repercussions.”  
  
Tink nodded. “He can’t, but everything an Author writes is recorded forever. Henry isn’t just a writer, he’s a caretaker of the Author’s whole library now. The palace houses a great number of storybooks from, well, everywhere. If someone or something has been written about by an Author, Henry can find it, so long as he has the pen, and if Zelena bothered to steal it, she may be trying to hide something that she’s afraid Henry would pick up on.”  
  
Liam had taken another large bite of his snack and had to swallow quickly. “Not to mention the other thing.”  
  
Zarina looked at him. “What other thing?”  
  
“My satchel, please.” Liam dusted his hands and motioned at a satchel slung over the back of Tink’s chair. She lifted the strap and handed it to him. He took the satchel with one hand and, with the other, flipped open the leather flap to tug out a large scroll. He slipped the satchel over his shoulder and unrolled a drawing in an unmistakable style.  
  
Zarina leaned in. “Is that from the storybook?”  
  
Liam slid a hand across the paper, smoothing it against the table. “Not exactly.”  
  
Confused, Zarina looked back up at Liam.  
  
“Most of the time Henry writes his stories after they happen, but sometimes the story finds him first. He gets a premonition, just enough to get him looking for the right people.” Liam tapped the page with a finger. “When Zelena attacked the castle, he was working on this.”  
  
The page bore a drawing of two forms standing on the deck of a ship. The first was clearly Hook looking grim, as if he’d just heard bad news. The second form, a woman, faced him in conversation. She was dressed as a sailor, but wore a dark hood draped over her features. She had thick bracers over her forearms from which extended two short, bright blades.  
  
Liam pointed to the hooded woman. “This is Morgan.”  
  
She looks like an assassin,” Zarina blurted, then put a hand over her mouth because she was pretty sure telling a prince his girlfriend looked like a murderer probably wasn’t a compliment in the human world.  
  
“Privateer,” corrected Liam, his lips turning up in amusement for a moment before drifting back down with the gravity of the situation, “but you’re not far off the mark. The point is, Henry drew her before he ever met her, before _I_ ever met her, and if her story called to him, he may know where to start looking. It’s an Author thing.” Liam rose from his seat. “I have to be there when he gets it back.”  
  
“No, you don’t,” replied Tink. “You slept barely an hour. You can barely walk. You want to help? Sleep. Sleep now so you can fight later.”  
  
The prince swayed heavily to the side and nearly fell but that Zarina leaped to her feet and caught him.  
  
“You’re right,” Liam sighed. He put an arm around Zarina as if to steady himself, only to pull away with a jolt. Zarina felt a tug at her waist and she glanced down to find the bag of white dust gone from her hip.  
  
“Liam!” Tink jumped from her chair, but could do nothing as the prince snapped to his full height, the bag of dust in one hand and a fist of dust extended over his head.  
  
“If I can’t walk,” he said and opened his fist, “I’ll just have to fly.”  
  
White dust fell into his hair, bounced down his shoulders, and ran down his chest as he clenched his eyes shut in concentration.  
  
Only nothing happened.  
  
Well, except for a pinch of dust that tickled down his spine and caused him to inhale suddenly, breathing in a few granules of dust, which set off a sneezing fit.  
  
Liam cracked an eye open amid his violent sneezing and caught Tink’s unamused glare and Zarina’s petrified stare.  
  
“It’s inert, Liam,” Tink said. “White dust has to soak up magic before it can work and you, little prince...”  
  
“...Don’t have magic,” he finished.  
  
The sneezing subsided and Liam closed his eyes again, this time in shame. He slumped into his chair, sending an avalanche of dust down from his dark strands to the table, where the drawing of Hook and Morgan still lay. He stared at it with red-rimmed eyes, tracing a wild line of Morgan’s hair as tears dripped from his chin and Tink’s anger left her, leaving only pity and concern. Liam curled the picture and carefully stuffed it back into the satchel, as if laying a dream to rest. Tink stepped forward, to comfort him, to say something, when the satchel began to glow with a soft golden light. The dust on his arm lit up as well, snaking up to his shoulders, to his hair, to his very eyes, turning emerald green to glittering gold.  
  
He glowed like that for a moment, soft and bright and brilliant.  
  
Then he cried out in terrible pain and fell over.  
  
-0-  
  
Emma and Killian found everyone gathered in the castle war room. Fitting, she figured, since they were in a war of a sort; a longstanding conflict with the Wicked Witch over the fate of young Robyn, if not the fate of the kingdom. Only Zelena refused to see that her daughter had long since grown into a young woman with a mind and will of her own, and Robyn wanted nothing to to with Zelena. This attitude, of course, Zelena blamed on Regina and Robin and literally everyone else except herself and her own malice. Emma had all but given up on hope for Zelena, though she sometimes mused if history had gone a different way, if she and Regina had ever been able to mend fences, but wishful thinking only added up to so much, even in a magic realm.  
  
Henry sat at the great circular table where his grandparents had sat almost half a century ago planning how Emma was to escape the Evil Queen’s curse. He had a storybook spread open in front of him with Snow and Charming sitting on either side of him and Regina and Robin behind him, all reading over his shoulder. All except Henry had started to go at least a little gray, though Regina’s grey tended to disappear at will, or when it “didn’t go with the outfit”, or it was Tuesday. It all happened so gradually, aging, that Emma only noticed in moments like these, but she’d much rather have aged family than dead family, hands down, so she embraced the lines and skin splotches and streaks of silver.  
  
Henry caught the movement of their arrival first and looked up. “Mom! Killian!”  
  
The others looked up and chimed their own greetings. Snow and Charming sent them particularly sympathetic looks, no doubt for Liam’s sake.  
  
“What’s up?” asked Emma, charging into the situation if only to distract herself from the helplessness of her son’s heartache.  
  
“We caught a break,” said Snow, putting an arm around Henry. “Henry found a reference to Blackbeard in another storybook; we may have an idea what he’s up to.”  
  
Emma quirked her head at that. “Blackbeard’s from another storybook?”  
  
“Not Blackbeard,” said Henry, flipping back a few pages, then turning the book so Emma and Killian could inspect a picture. It was a man who looked every inch a pirate but for a white hood over his head. A stray lock of blonde hair fell from under the hood. She had never seen him before, but Emma did recognize the glinting blades strapped to his wrists.  
  
“Is that…?” Emma started to ask, but Killian moved forward.  
  
“Edward Kenway,” Killian said. “Morgan’s father.”  
  
“Morgan?” said Snow, brow knit in concern. “The girl Liam…”  
  
“Aye.”  
  
Emma stared at the picture with renewed interest.  
  
Henry pulled the book back to himself. “Long story short, he followed some very bad people here who were after some very powerful magic in our world.”  
  
“What kind of magic?” Emma asked.  
  
“A ship, for one,” Henry replied, “the _Queen Anne’s Revenge_. Heard of it?”  
  
Killian tensed and his features sharpened. “Only one of the deadliest ships to ever sail. What did he have to do with it?”  
  
Henry flipped around a few pages and turned the book back over to Emma and Killian. “Read for yourself.”  
  
They took the book and skimmed through the story. Apparently Kenway enlisted Blackbeard to help him to find this foreign ship in a foreign realm, but quickly realized Blackbeard craved the ship for himself. Kenway eventually broke with Blackbeard, found the ship on his own, destroyed it and, with it, his enemies. He had nothing left in his old realm, so Kenway sent his ship and crew back while he remained behind.  
  
Killian shifted, breathing in the information. “I knew of the bad blood between Kenway and Blackbeard, but never suspected it was over the bloody _Queen Anne_.”  
  
Snow shifted in her seat. “How sad that he didn't have anyone back home.”  
  
“Don’t get too weepy, love,” Killian replied. “The man conquered an island and turned it into a pirate haven. Made more loot on that than he ever did at sea. He died a very rich man.”  
  
Emma frowned. “But if the ship is gone and Kenway is dead, what’s Blackbeard after?”  
  
“It’s a magic ship,” Regina replied, “and since magic can't be entirely destroyed, it is possible a sorceress of Zelena’s caliber could resurrect the ship. With Kenway dead and his crew gone, the next logical link would be-”  
  
“-Morgan,” Killian finished.  
  
Emma’s eyes went wide. “Liam wasn’t the only target that night.”  
  
Killian met her gaze. “They must assume she knows something.”  
  
“But that’s good, right?” Snow asked, though with a shake of uncertainty in her voice. “It’s a reason for them to keep her alive?”  
  
“Until they get what they want and throw her overboard,” said Killian.  
  
Snow paled at the thought and her gaze dropped to the table.  
  
 “But why would Zelena want to help Blackbeard get a ship?”  
  
“Because the ship is immune to magic,” said Regina. “That's why we can't track it, not by magic means, anyway. Worse, it nullifies the magic of those aboard who aren't the captain--sort of like Pan’s cuff. It’s a veritable floating prison for any practitioner of magic.”  
  
“Robyn,” whispered Robin, his hands tensing into fists. “It's always comes back to Robyn.”  
  
Charming sat forward, ”She could also use this against Emma.”  
  
Emma’s lips tightened. “I think Zelena’s made it pretty clear if she ever gets a shot at me, she aims to kill, not-”  
  
The words died on Emma’s lips as a sudden tingle of dread raced up her spine. Killian caught something in her expression and put his hand to her shoulder in concern.  
  
Henry, too, suddenly sat up straighter and his worried eyes snapped on Emma.  
  
“Liam,” they both whispered and the room filled with white smoke.  
  
-0-  
  
Liam flailed on the floor, his leg curled to his chest, throat hoarse with screams of pain. Tink crouched over him on the floor but could do little to ease his cries.  
  
“What happened?” asked Tink, trying to still him long enough to check his leg.  
  
“The pages were made from Author magic,” said Zarina. She snatched up the bag of dust and deduced the prince had taken quite the dose. “There must have been enough of a remnant of that magic for the dust to soak up.”  
  
“But what did it do!?”  
  
“I… have no idea.”  
  
Blue wouldn’t just have her wings for this, Zarina thought, she’d impale her on her own wand.  
  
Zarina quickly secured the dust to her belt, dropped to Liam’s side and tried to hold him down while Tink examined his leg with a pinch of her own true fairy dust. However, she found nothing wrong with his leg, or indeed any other part of him. Zarina placed a hand on either side of his face, trying to gently extract the magic from him. Wisps of gold rose from his skin and slowly drifted away, but nowhere near what he had doused himself with.  
  
“Hook?” called a woman’s voice, muffled by the wood and windows of the ship.  
  
“What was that?” Zarina asked, her concentration still fully on the prince. His eyes clenched shut, fighting her attempts to pull him back.  
  
“Emma?” the voice called again.  
  
Tink jumped up to look out the windows. “It’s Ariel. She’s just pulling herself out of the water. She must have found something.” Tink dug in her pockets for a little mirror to get word to Emma.  
  
“Liam?” Ariel called. “Guys, I know where they are!”  
  
Liam’s eyes flew open, still bright gold. He leaped to his feet. Zarina caught him by the arm, but he would not be stopped. He dashed to the stairs, pulling the fairy off balance. Zarina’s instincts kicked in and her wings unfurled, flapping to keep her from falling. She ended up airborne and still clutching to the prince as he barreled upstairs through the blood-shielded hatch and onto the deck.  
  
The mermaid stood at the stairs leading down from the ship, a long trail of wet footprints lead back down to the docks where she had pulled herself from the ocean.  
  
Liam immediately ran for the gunwale.  
  
“Prince Liam! Stop!” Zarina insisted, fighting with all the might in her wings to hold him back. She used her inertia to tug him back just shy of the gunwale, the shield, and the anxious mermaid. He looked at her with those mad, glimmering eyes. “You can’t go, it's too dangerous. We have to get your parents.”  
  
“There’s no time. They’re leaving the port at Great Inagua,” Ariel blurted, putting out a hand in plea for permission to board. “The _Jolly Roger_ can get there in time if we leave right now.”  
  
Liam grunted something feral and stepped backward, giving the mermaid his other hand through the shield, without ever taking his eyes from Zarina.  
  
Ariel took his hand, smiled, and tugged him backward through the shield.  
  
Several things then happened in the space of a breath. Ariel disappeared in a swirl of green smoke, replaced with the dark green form of the Wicked Witch. Zelena waved a hand and the prince passed out, going limp as he fell into her waiting arms. The fairy, who hadn’t let go, was pulled through the shield as well. The witch flicked her wrist dismissively and every muscle in Zarina’s body froze. Without working wings, Zarina dropped out of the air, losing her grip on the prince as she tumbled down the stairs. The bag at her waist caught on the edge of the stairs, tearing the fabric, and she rolled down the stairs in a cloud of dust and terror.  
  
She landed on her side on the dock, still completely rigid. Everything hurt, and the dust filled her lungs, causing her to cough and sputter. Then, white smoke filled Zarina’s vision, and up and down the dock appeared Emma, Hook, and the rest of Liam’s family.  
  
It might have meant her immediate death, but she was happy to see them.  
  
“Really, why you lot still let fairies watch your children is beyond me,” the witch crooned.  
  
Zarina watched Emma look from Liam to her and back again. Tears filled Zarina’s eyes, but she couldn't even move her mouth to apologize.  
  
“You're crazy if you think you're getting out of here in one piece,” Emma spat back.  
  
Emma flicked her hands, assuming a battle stance. A beam of bright, burning light streamed down on Zelena. The witch smiled, tilted her head, and held up a hand. A great bolt of white lightning shot from her hand, hitting Emma and knocking her back into the small crowd of family. Emma’s beam cut short. Hook, Charming and Snow White struggled to get her back on her feet while Regina, Robin Hood, and Prince Henry stepped in front of her. Regina tried to fling a ball of light, but with another dismissive motion, Zelena froze the whole lot.  
  
“One of these days, Regina,” cooed Zelena, “you’re going to have to admit that I am, and will always be, the better witch.”  
  
Regina glared up at Zelena. Zelena giggled down at the helpless group. Liam, unconscious, breathed shallow breaths, oblivious to danger.  
  
And Zarina sneezed.  
  
It wasn’t loud as she caught her nose with her hand in time to stifle it, but it left a glittery green ooze in her hand. The sight so disturbed her that she almost missed the fact that her hand was free to move as it pleased. She immediately glanced around and found her neck muscles responded, no stiffness. She glanced down at herself awkwardly sprawled on the deck, covered head to toe in dark emerald dust.  
  
The dust must have soaked up the witch’s magic, releasing her from the spell.  
  
“Now, until I have my daughter back, I'm going to keep your son locked up in a prison you can’t find.” Zelena’s attention was on the frozen family, not Zarina, and hadn't noticed her movement. “Whenever you decide you’re ready to trade, just wail in defeat and I’ll bring your boy. Or whatever’s left of him. Ta!”  
  
Zelena threw a hand up to disappear and Zarina made her move. She threw an arm out at the Witch, willing with everything she had that she might not take the prince. The dust around her rose in a whirlwind and flew at the witch. Zarina shuddered with the power that swirled around her; immense, intense winds of absolute hatred and bitter jealousy. Her vision clouded green. She trembled, such pure and unashamed anger bore down as a maelstrom on a lone, lost fishing boat. A tunnel opened in the winds and she could see on one far end the dock, the family, and the sea. At the other end she saw Liam, asleep. She tried to stretch out, to grasp both ends with her hands, but the further she stretched toward one, the farther away the other drew, so she took both hands and grasped for the prince. Her hands met warm flesh and she rooted her feet to hold him there, but the ground beneath her shook and broke apart and flung her into the air, into the maelstrom, and into green fury.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Captain Edward Kenway is borrowed from Assassin's Creed: Black Flag, while Morgan is an original character based on that universe. All you really need to know: Edward and Morgan are allies of the Assassins (the good guys in their world). Oh, and Assassins like to wear hoods. It's kind of their thing.


	6. A Sé

  1. **(Enchanted Forest, Future Past)**



Frozen in the act of pulling Emma upright, Killian could only curse internally as smoke enveloped Liam and Zelena. The Witch had grown so desperate, so blackened with the singular purpose of reclaiming Robyn, that Killian entertained few doubts that she could, and very likely would, end his son rather than return him. His thoughts flickered dark, to running the witch through when they caught up with her again, but movement from the little fairy brought him back to the moment.

Zarina hurled a wild blast of emerald green dust at the escaping Zelena. The swirl of smoke sucked in the dust, spinning wider and wilder until it stretched toward the sky as a cyclone. It swept up the fairy and pounded against the _Jolly Roger_. The ship listed sharply at the assault, but a red glow against the hull proved the blood magic held firm. Wood snapped as the dock began to rip apart under its power. Nearer the family, the edges of the fury approached, brushing against Robin's boot and Henry's arm.

For Liam's sake, Killian would have jumped in straight away and damn whatever cursed land Zelena took them to, but the freeze spell held and he could do nothing but wait for the magic to come to him.

Only it didn't.

The cyclone spun out suddenly and disappeared into the air, leaving nothing behind but splinters of the broken dock bobbing in the water. The _Jolly Roger_ rocked hard as it found its proper seat in the harbor.

Killian felt the freeze spell break and his muscles remembered their motion. He hauled Emma to her feet and immediately pulled her into a tight hug, as if holding her could somehow bring Liam back.

"Henry!" Regina shouted, and Killian had to pull away from Emma. They turned to see Henry slumped against Robin. Robin and Regina struggled to pull Henry's arms about their shoulders to keep him upright. Strung between the archer and the queen, Henry moaned some indiscernible sentiment and opened his eyes.

Glittering gold irides snapped on Killian as Henry tried to wrench away from Robin and Regina.

At the same time, muffled shouts came from Emma's pocket. She pulled a mirror from her pocket and Tink's voice rang clear, calling for Emma.

Emma nodded toward Regina. "Get him home. Take the others. We'll get Tink. Regroup in the war room." Regina needed no further encouragement to poof the rest away, leaving Killian and Emma behind.

They found Tink trapped in the cabin, stumbling out apologies among the mess of fairy magic and the aftermath of a tale Killian would take no joy in hearing.

-0-

Killian, Emma, and Tink materialized in the war room to find Henry had broken free of Regina and Robin. Henry's hand went to his hip and Killian tensed, expecting Henry to go for his sword, but he went instead for his satchel and pulled out the Storybook. Ignoring the others, he flung it onto the table as his hand dipped into a pocket and pulled out his pen. As if in a trance, he took to a chair and began scribbling in the book, gold eyes blazing.

A panicked Regina knelt at his side, searching his face for some sign of her son or some clue as to what was happening to him.

Tink dove forward, joining the Queen at Henry's side. "No, not Henry too."

"What?" Regina snapped.

Tink took a breath. "Zarina's dust soaked up some Author magic and Liam accidentally doused himself with it. His eyes looked just like this."

"I'm sorry," said a confused Robin, "Zelena did this?"

"No, Zarina. The other fairy from the dock," Emma answered, leaning in to study Henry from behind Regina and Tink. "She found a way to mimic other magic with fairy dust."

"Mimic other magic?" Regina's voice dripped with disapproval. "When did this happen?"

"I was going to tell you but then Zelena happened."

Regina rose, shades of the Evil Queen surfacing as she rose to loom above the two women. "Tink, talk."

Tinker Bell did, explaining to all everything that Zarina had learned, all that had happened aboard the _Jolly Roger,_ and the strange magic that possessed the prince.

Robin looked confused. "But nobody did anything to Henry, none of us got anywhere near Liam.."

"No," Regina tapped a knuckle to her lip in thought, "but Henry is the Author, he might be affected by proxy."

"I think you're right about that," Snow said. While the others watched Henry, she stared at Henry's pen as it scratched across the page. Killian moved to get a better look.

Henry had scratched out several paragraphs already, and Killian realized he knew this story: it was the night Zelena attacked the castle. Henry described how Zelena suddenly appeared, though not how she got in. Liam and Henry, who had been with Robyn at the time, were caught up in the attack. She held her own, but Liam was thrown up against a wall, breaking his leg.

"There!" Tink pointed at the line about Liam's injury. "After the magic activated, he was acting like he had a broken leg, but there wasn't a thing wrong with him, I swear."

Henry kept writing, completely ignoring Tink. The scene shifted to the _Jolly Roger_ where Emma and Killian had brought Liam for safety. Something about the magic of the ship, the centuries-long connection it had to Killian, made it a particularly strong site to erect shields. It was only supposed to be for a few days, until they figured out how Zelena had breached the castle, but weeks went by with nary a clue and Liam, who refused to let Emma heal his leg, was forced to convalesce at sea.

Since he had been old enough to lift a sword, Liam had resisted letting Emma heal him. He had always said he didn't like the idea of running to magic with every bruise or break when other soldiers and sailors couldn't, which Killian believed, but he often wondered if there wasn't more to it. Liam was fair with a blade, but he wasn't his father, or even his grandfather. Killian had watched men train with a sword for hundreds of years, he knew a natural when they drew their blade. Liam was not a natural, not with a sword; not for lack of practice, and certainly not for lack of courage, but perhaps affected by an overabundance of compassion. He could no sooner run a man through than run through a wall. A man who couldn't kill _and_ who ran to Mum with every bump didn't particularly soothe the nerves of a kingdom long pestered by the Wicked Witch.

But time at sea had a secret purpose, too. The lad had fancied Ariel's daughter, young Melody, for years, but when he had made his heart known, she had turned him down for a highly-decorated hero of a princeling who was bold and brash and buff and as far removed from the Songbird Prince as anyone ever could be. A break from the castle seemed the best balm for his heartbreak.

The story kept on, but a knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Killian turned as a young woman pushed in through the heavy doors, looking for Emma. She was dressed simply, nothing to really draw the eye, but tiny orbs of amber light floated around her, betraying a magical presence. As she entered, some of the little lights meandered away like lightning bugs and drifted about the chamber as if exploring.

"Damn," Emma hissed under her breath and walked over to speak with her.

Tink appeared at Killian's shoulder. "What's that about?"

"She's one of Emma's magic students," Killian replied. "She must have had a lesson scheduled."

Emma and the girl continued to speak, the girl nodding her head in quiet understanding, though the little lights around her began to multiply and pick up speed. A ring on her finger, a silver band with a bright white jewel, glittered wildly. Emma put a hand to the girl's shoulders in a reassuring gesture, speaking calmly. The girl nodded again, and the lights lessened.

"What's with the lights?" Tink asked.

He'd gotten so used to the sight of Emma's students running around the castle with their sprays of light that Killian forgot how the sight must look to their guests. "Emma makes these rings for her students. It transmutes uncontrolled bursts of magic into harmless light, lest an upset novice bring the castle down on our heads."

"How does she decide when they're ready to take it off?"

Killian lowered his eyes and his voice. "She doesn't, the ring does. That's the price of its magic: the ring mutes their powers, keeps them from harming anyone until they've mastered the emotions that fuel their magic."

"And what if they don't?"

"Then they spend the rest of their lives as a harmless firework display."

Tink looked like she meant to say more, but Henry loudly dotted a period onto the page, stealing Killian's attention back. Henry's eyes returned to a soft brown and he dropped the pen.

"You alright lad?" Killian asked as Henry leaned back from the book to rub the bridge of his nose.

"Henry?" Emma ran over from the door. The girl disappeared back into the hallway.

"I'm fine," Henry replied, blinking quickly. "So is Liam, I think. He's in my head."

Regina ran a hand through Henry's hair with one hand, checking his eyes for the slightest glint of gold. "In your head?"

"Not literally," he said, "but I can sense his thoughts. I've been seeing his memories like a movie I can't turn off."

Emma leaned in next to Regina. "Can you get a message to him?"

Henry shook his head."I don't think so, he doesn't seem aware of me. It's like talking to a DVD."

"What about Zarina?" asked Tink.

"I don't know," he replied. "I'm sorry."

Henry reached out and grabbed Emma's arm. "Mom, Zelena could have killed you with that blast."

"I may be old but I'm not that frail yet," Emma replied, settling her hand over his. "She caught me by surprise. I'll be ready next time."

Emma had always had the power to sense the truth, but Killian could tell when she was lying. He said nothing, however, and she kept on.

"Henry," she said, taking command, "keep looking for anything the Authors have to say." She looked to the queen and the fairy. "Regina, Tink; the three of us will keep an eye on him and figure out what this dust did to my sons. Robin, take Mom and Dad to the library. Explain everything to Belle and help her do her thing. Killian, you stay. The last time we dealt with Author magic, all of our stories changed. Liam spent the last few months with you, you'll be the most likely to notice if anythings changed from what really happened."

He tugged Emma closer to kiss her forehead. "Aye, Swan."

Emma's shoulders drooped and she let out a breath. Killian frowned. Twenty-some years of marriage and he still read her like an open book. She blamed herself for not stopping the witch, for leaving Liam behind.

"This isn't your fault," he whispered.

"I should have stayed with him, or brought him with to the castle where we could keep an eye on him."

"Two blood magic shields and a sleep spell should have kept him plenty safe, Swan, but our boy has Charming blood and danger always draws Charmings out of the woodwork. Or captain's cabin, as it would seem."

Emma only managed a meager smile and Killian pulled her in for another hug.

"I should have chained him to the damn ship," she mumbled into his neck.

-0-

**(Storybrooke, Present Day)**

Emma set her phone on her desk to keep from dropping it. She and Killian had moved into her office to keep a closer eye on their prisoners, but she'd honestly been far too caught up in Henry's revelation to pay much attention. She had another son. Another son _with Killian._ A son who had been kidnapped by Zelena, who somehow knocked Emma on her ass with light magic. Oh, and Blackbeard-the-bonus-villain clearly got his evil hell-ship.

This day just kept getting better.

"The only way to destroy the ship is to kill the captain," Henry said, the phone on loudspeaker for Killian's sake, "but you can't-"

The line suddenly went silent.

"Henry?" Emma grabbed the phone to check the screen.

 _Call ended_ , it read.

"No no no."

"Swan?"

She looked up from her palm to an equally worried Killian.

"The line dropped," she said, hovering a thumb over the call button. "I'll redial."

"No!" Killian's deft hand snatched the phone away.

The mother in her reared up and she opened her mouth to curse him for keeping her from Henry, but sense kicked in a second later and she realized what he didn't have to say.

If Henry had been made, her phone call couldn't help him. Worse, if he hadn't been made, her call might only expose him. Best case scenario, the _Queen Anne's Revenge_ had simply drifted out of cell range, in which case, her call would do nothing. Worst case scenario, well, Emma didn't want to think worst-case-scenario.

As much as it killed her, she'd have to wait on him.

Emma sagged and Killian must have caught her change of heart because he handed her phone back without ceremony. She stared at his wedding ring as she took the phone from him and guilt surged in her. Of course Killian would protect her son as he would protect their own son.

Their own son.

A son who might very well be aboard the future ship outside Storybrooke harbor, with a town line, an untouchable witch, and decades of hate between them. Emma went cold in a place in her gut normally reserved for Henry.

At the thought of the ship, Emma's eyes darted to the cell, where Angelica remained, fuming. A cloudy barrier surrounded her cell, and the cell of her would-be rescuer, to block the rest of the station from the prisoners' sight. Emma could see them, but they saw nothing. Mother Superior stood just outside Emma's office, examining their belongings.

"Emma?" Snow's voice ran out and Emma saw her parents emerge from the file room, harried, with Robin and Regina in tow. Granny followed with her crossbow. Emma pushed out of her office to meet them. Killian followed. "Granny said Henry called? Is he okay?"

"He was," Emma answered, "but we got cut off. We don't know why. It could be that the ship drifted out of cell range, or-"

"Or Captain Dead Man is torturing our son as we speak," Regina stepped forward. "We need to act, now."

Emma let out a slow breath. How could she tell them that future Emma already went up against this Zelena and lost? "Without a way over the town line, we're at Zelena's mercy."

"We might have a break there," said Mother Superior, pointing to two strips of worn rope on the desk in front of her.

"Are you suggesting we strangle Zelena with a noose?" David asked.

"Rigging," Killian corrected, and stepped forward to inspect them. "From the _Queen Anne's Revenge_ , I'd wager."

David frowned. "Why bring those here?"

"Because they're enchanted to nullify magic," Mother Superior explained.

Emma's eyes widened a little and she too leaned over the desk. "That's why I lost my powers when Blackbeard attacked."

"And why none of our spells worked against our uninvited guest," growled Regina, then a light seemed to go off in her mind and the tension in her stance eased. "That's it!"

Snow's brow furrowed. "What's it?"

"If these are from the _Queen Anne's Revenge,_ he must have come over the town line."

"Indeed," agreed Mother Superior. "The counter-magic in these ropes are strong enough to pass through the town line."

A dark grin spread across Regina's leaned closer to her. "Are you aware you're wearing your 'brainstorming an evil plan' face?"

"It's not evil," she retorted, "but it is a plan."

Emma's heart swelled at the first bit of hope they'd had since the _Revenge_ surfaced. "What do you have?"

"Hook keeps his agreement with Zelena," Regina said, "or at least the appearance of it. If the ropes work, I can get Robin and me across the line and onto the _Queen Anne's Revenge_. We get aboard, get Henry, leave, and rendezvous with the _Jolly Roger_ as it crosses the town line. With Zelena powerless, us three against those two are much better odds."

"If properly repaired," said Killian, "the _Jolly Roger_ should be able to outrun any fight the _Revenge_ has left in her."

"Shouldn't David and I come with?" Said Snow. "You can't say we aren't helpful in a fight."

Regina's hands found her hips. "No, the fewer that go the better. Someone has to distract Zelena before she suspects what we're up to."

"I'm coming," Emma stated flat out.

"No." Regina lifted a hand to still any argument. "You're still Storybrooke's best defense against Zelena. You need to be here if things go badly. "

"They're my sons at stake," Emma spat back, lunging into Regina's space. Beside her, Killian winced. The others stared.

Of course, she realized, because only the two of them had actually heard the phone call.

Mary Margaret's hand crept up over her heart, gazing warmly at Emma. "Your _sons_ …?"

David's hand crept to his holster, glaring at Killian. "Sons?"

Regina and Robin blinked back their surprise, but remained silent. A hand squeezed Emma's shoulder and Killian eased her to his side. He placed a kiss to her hairline.

"Aye," he added, "Henry told us a few things you all should hear."


End file.
